Wildfire: Book 1
by Captain Ivy Renn
Summary: Many seasons ago a warlord learned to use fire, a princess was enslaved, and a kingdom was destroyed. Now, the warlord's back and more dangerous than before. Who will live, and who will die? Rated T for possible future descriptive violence.
1. Prologue

_Well...my first Redwall fanfic. The prologue doesn't take place in Redwall, and the whole thing doesn't center around Isabella, but the fire is important. ;) R&R puh-leaaaze. :D_

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A scream shattered the once still night air. As if on cue a dark cloud was tossed in front of the white half moon, blocking its light from the world. Then, silence again. Out of nowhere, the night was ablaze with fire – orange and red flames licked at the sky, blotting out any stars that weren't already covered by clouds with smoke. More screams came, and shouts that were unintelligible in the roar of the flames.

Sitting in a corner with her knees to her chest and her arms over her head, a small mousemaid sobbed softly. Her cries were abruptly choked off as she started coughing from the thick smoke that filled the cottage. Other nearby houses were on fire as well, filled with smoke and the terrified screams of mice as they burned alongside the squirrels leaping from trees and into the fire as the forest burned.

"Isabella!" The mousemaid heard her name through the raging inferno and looked up, tears streaking her cheeks. "Isabella!" called the voice and she recognized it as her brother.

Isabella called, "T-Torran?" and stood, looking around. "Torran!?" Her voice was stronger the second time and a strong paw grabbed her shoulder, pulling her around the edge of the wall and out the door. She stumbled out of the house, her face slamming into the ash-covered ground. Pain shot through her but she was pulled roughly to her paws by another mouse, only a few seasons older than her.

"Come on!" he called, a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. He took her paw and pulled her along, explaining, "The storm started the fire, I think. It started close to our house – I'm glad you stayed in one place, or I would have never found you." His voice was muffled by the cloth.

She tripped over roots, too confused to comprehend what he was saying. Isabella asked anxiously, "Mama? Papa? Sanya?" Torran only tightened his grip on her wrist as they left the fire far behind. When they finally stopped, the rain had begun to fall heavily, as heavily as before the storm. Strong gusts of wind blew billows of smoke to them, like waves of a storming sea.

Torran collapsed, coughing as he fell to the ground. "Torran!" she gasped, getting to her knees beside her older brother. He was coughing and as she studied him in the dim, hazy twilight, she saw horrible burns on his feet, side and face. She turned her eyes away from the sickening sight.

He gasped between coughs, "Isabella…get far…from here…abbey…far…" Then, his voice faded and he fell completely limp.

"T-Torran?" she asked, scared and weak. He'd breathed in smoke, been badly burned, and run a long distance with those burns. She gulped and stood, wrapping her charred cloak tightly around her. Her own feet were burned, though not too badly, and she began walking.

To where, she knew not. Her brother had said to get far from there, so she would do that. Night fell into day, and day into days, and days into a season. She rested when she needed it, but mostly, she walked. On the edge of starvation and with her burns infected, she walked. Tears coursed down her cheeks, giving away her obvious pain.

It was twilight. The purply gray sky was cloudy, much like the night the fire began. A clap of thunder rang in her ears and her first reaction was to scream, memories flashing through her eyes. Silver-blue lightning streaked the sky, shattering it in to a thousand pieces from which the rain came, pouring down and drenching her.

Wind whistled through the trees, snapping branched. A loud groan shivered the air, accompanied by a creak. Sobbing, she fell to her knees. Then, pain exploded in the back of her head, followed by darkness and nothing.

--

When she awoke, soft light seeped into her eyelids from a window, announcing a bright morning. Bandages were around her feet and head, and she couldn't feel the pain. A large, black-and-white-striped face was gazing down at her with warm brown eyes. "Good morning little one," it greeted.

"So she is awake?" another voice came to her, sounding curious and friendly. An old mouse made his way into view, a pair of spectacles on his face. "Now if she could just tell us her name…" he continued, but was silenced with a look from the badger.

"H-How long have I been a-asleep?" she asked, nestling deeper into the blankets.

The badger answered, "Three nights have passed since we found you, unconscious after a storm. You have Skipper Corim to thank for that. I am Mother Reeca, and this is Abbot Warvold." She motioned to the old mouse with a huge paw.

"I'm…I'm…" she began, then trailed off. Who was she? A memory replayed itself in her mind, a name…something like, "Belle?" It was more of a question than anything, and she could tell that both Reeca and Warvold could tell.

"Well, Belle," the badger began, but Warvold interrupted with a chuckle.

"That rhymed," he explained, then fell quiet again as she gave him another look before continuing.

"Well then, young Belle, we invite you to join our home, Redwall Abbey. It is understandable if you wish not to, but we would greatly enjoy your staying here," Reeca finished with no more interruptions.

Words echoed in her head. _Abbey…far…_ Who had said them? She said, firmly though still weakly, "Yes, I shall join…I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, anyway," she added, trying to wriggle her bandaged toes.

Warvold chuckled again. "There were three 'any's in that sentence, little Belle. Now then, why don't we get some breakfast up here, I'm starved."

You? Starved? she couldn't help but think as she noticed his large belly. Belle sat up then leaned back against some pillows, brow furrowed in thought. _I'm sure there was more of it then just 'belle'. But what else?_ A delicious smell drifted into her nose and she closed her eyes, smling. A tray was set in her lap, complete with a bowl of wonderful smelling soup and a soft loaf of bread smothered in light butter.

"So where do you come from?" the abbot asked, eyeing the loaf of bread as she began sipping the hot soup.

Belle smiled a little and broke of a piece of the loaf, handing it to him, before answering, "I…I don't know. All I remember is a storm, then screams, then…a fire."

Reeca arched an eyebrow, watching the young mousemaid. She seemed honest and kind, but she couldn't remember? The badger didn't trust others very easily and prompted, "Are you sure?"

But Belle's brown eyes had grown foggy and distant, with memories that were just out of her reach. Her eyes grew wide and fearful, and she shivered a little. "It's all that I remember…though I feel like I should remember more," she answered softly, then fell silent as she sipped on the soup.

Warvold's brown eyes watched her, obviously curious. Whatever had happened to the mouse to give her the burns she had it must have been huge. And to lose a memory like that…She must have been knocked out by something, maybe the fallen tree, then lost her memory. She could barely even remember her own name!

Belle closed her eyes and was swiftly asleep, though it was a light sleep, with flames dancing behind her eyelids and the silhouettes of different creatures. A scream rang in her head but still, she slept, unable to pull herself from the hazy nightmare unfolding just beyond reach of her memory.

_Well? What do you think? Constructive criticism greatly appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter…1!! Whoo! Thanks anyone who read it and special thanks to any who reviewed. _

_StripeEar: It is, isn't it?.. O.o I had just finished the last episode when I wrote it, so my mind may have been on the first…..I just thought it would be cool to use a bad guy whose main weapon was fire!_

_So anyway, please tell me what you think. Thank you!_

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Silver stars specked the bluish black sky like glitter on a sheet of soft velvet. A light breeze wound through the tall trees as it wove a blanket of cool spring air beneath the round full moon, whose white moonlight watched everything like a mother watches her child. At the center of it all lay a large sandstone building, whose once red walls were now faded to a paler rose-colored hue.

Two figures stood alone on the top of one of the walls, gazing out at the forest. One was a slender mouse, whose lean figure looked like it could be blown away at any moment like a leaf on the wind. Her companion was a tall otter with strong muscles, one of the younger beasts at the abbey. They watched the moon rise in silence.

After a few more moments of soothing silence, the mouse commented, "The moon almost tricks you in to thinking she is a guardian. She watches everything that we do in a silent protectiveness, but then when trouble does come, she can do nothing but continue watching."

"Aye," the otter agreed, then both fell in to silence again. Something flashed in the mousemaid's brown eyes, and for a moment the reflection of the moon in her eyes looked as if it were covered by smoke, but that quickly faded.

She sighed, then said quietly, "If only it could really be a guardian, rather than a watcher. I will be in the cavern hole, if you need me. Good night, Brother Tormund."

The otter dipped his head to her as she left replying, "G'night Abbess." He looked back at the moon. It lay huge just above the horizon, it's soft glow creating a ring of dancing silver flames around it, which made Tor wonder exactly what horrors it was watching and if perhaps the flickering glow was its way of laughter. "Whose side are you on?" he asked quietly, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

--

_Up...down...up...down..._

The steady beat of the waves against the hull of the ship created a metronome for the unchanging movement of the oars. Each beast rowing sat two to an oar, with one aisle on each side of the ship. They all wore ragged and threadbare tunics, with extreme slashes on the back. Some had been bought from a slaver barely a seasons ago and were unused to the labor of rowing.

_Up…down…up…down…_

One of which was a squirrel, who had been with the slaver for many seasons and not been sold for various reasons. The mousemaid beside her kept her eyes straight forward as she rowed and the squirrel whispered, "Don't you ever get tired?"

_Up…down…up…down…_

"No talkin' in the ranks!" croaked the slavemaster, a short fox with half a tail named Urvin. His whip lashed out a few times at the squirrel, who winced and muttered something, though she gritted her teeth together and kept rowing. The whip's sharp tip nicked the mouse's cheek, and a small drop of warm red blood rolled down to the bench.

_Up…down…up…down…_

Sanya – the mouse – raised a slender manacled paw to touch the scratch, and almost immediately sharp pain ran through her back like wildfire. "Why'd ye stop rowin'?!" Urvin barked out as the whip thrashed her again. Her paw shot back down to the oar but the flogging continued for another moment before he became distracted with another slave.

_Up…down…up…down…_

Tears coursed down her cheeks and blood coursed down her back. That was the worst beating she'd received since she'd gotten there so many seasons ago. The squirrel started to whisper something, but Sanya interrupted in a hoarse undertone, "Aspen just be quiet before we're both beaten to death." Aspen looked surprised and turned back to look straight ahead.

_Up…down…up…down…_

The only light was that that came from the lantern held by Urvin, gripped tightly in the paw that didn't hold his whip. More of the precious, intangible substance was let in when someone opened the hatch. Making sure she kept rowing, Sanya turned her face to the light.

_Up…down…up…down…_

A ferret called to the slavemaster, "The cap'n be needin' two slaves. He says ta make sure they're strong but small." Urvin thought for a moment then flicked his whip across Aspen and Sanya's back, signaling that they would do. The ferret and a weasel jumped down from the hatch and quickly unchained the two, taking off the manacles and replacing them loosely with rope.

Aspen was too shocked to do anything, and Sanya could cry with relief that she'd stopped rowing already. The slaves normally worked in 24-hour shifts, and I was only 6 hours in to this one. The ferret led Sanya, while the weasel pulled Aspen along, much more roughly.

They were escort to the main deck, were a tall fox stood with one paw on his hip and the other pointing at a rat, a new recruit who was untangling himself from the rigging. Aspen snickered as the fox yelled, "You idiot! If that happens again I'll personally skin you and burn you to a crisp before feeding you to the slaves for breakfast!" Sanya wrinkled her nose a little at the thought.

The fox was a Captain Elgan the Reaper, a warlord who was modest with his title – but that was it. He bragged about being the most feared on the seas, which was true, and that he had tamed fire and could make it do his bidding whenever he pleased. As far as foxes went, he was handsome, and though he was calm, controlled and a good leader, his only fault was that he had to have things of beauty. He turned to the two slaves, but Aspen cut in before he could speak.

"Wow," she commented, almost laughing, "I can see how ugly you are even while half-blinded by the sun!" Sanya's eyed widen and Elgan's expression darkened as a smirk spread across Aspen's face.

The Reaper's eyes blazed and everyone around them stopped and watched. Aspen's feet spread apart as she prepared for battle and thoughts raced through Sanya's head. "You'll die for that!" Elgan snarled and unsheathed a long rapier, lunging forward. Instinctively, the mousemaid took a step forward and to the side, in front of Aspen. Her stomach was sliced open instead.

Her paws went to the wound and warm blood spilled through them, rolling down them and forming a pool on the wooden boards. "Sanya!" Aspen cried but she was pushed away by the mouse.

"Run," she managed to gasp. "Run for your life." Aspen took a step back then raced towards the side of the huge ship, which was called _The Bloodwake_.

"Get her before she jumps!" Elgan yelled and vermin surged forward, a mix of ferrets, weasels and rats. Aspen's eyes widen and she leapt over the edge, her claws digging into the hull so that she didn't fall into the water. Before any saw her, the unusually pale-furred squirrel raced around to the figurehead, which was fashioned in the skull of a fox.

It was carefully and beautifully carved, and she climbed in to the open jaws and hid, one paw tightly wrapped around one of the teeth. A loud scream cut through the air then was silenced. _Sanya!_ She peered around to see the small, limp body of the mouse tumbled through the air and land in the water below with a slight splash.

Roars of laughter erupted from the crew and Aspen settled back in the fox's mouth, closing her eyes. _She was my only friend here, and now she's dead because of me. Oh, damn me and my sharp-tongue!_ A tear rolled down her face and she set her jaw. Elgan would die. His crew would drown. She would make sure of it.

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Tor sat bolt upright in bed, unsure of why he had woken up. Any dream was forgotten and he laid back down, closing his eyes. Three small bundles suddenly pounced on him and he looked up to see three dibbuns, an otter, a squirrel and a mouse, all jumping on him and chanting, "Bruvver Tor! Bruvver Tor!"

"Geroffa me, you liddle imps," he laughed and sat up, looking at the floor to see the obvious ring leader smiling up at him, a mouse named Topaz.

"I'm notta imp!" she exclaimed, beaming innocently.

"Aye," Tor agreed sarcastically. "That you ain't. Now let's go see if the good friar has any strawberries, maties."

"Stawbees!" all four chorused and Tor led the way to the kitchen. The three who had jumped on him ran ahead, but Topaz hitched a ride on his rudder-like tail the whole way there.

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_Well? Review? __**winkwinknudgenudge**__ Yes, the thingy with the slaves was a dream…sort of. It really happened, but YOU DON'T KNOW THAT. :D_


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